You Are Not Your Thoughts

Part 1 of the Five Things series

Aug 19, 2025

Last week I told you about a ChatGPT prompt that got stuck in my head like a song I shut up: If you’ve read every psychology study, what are the five things you must know about yourself to avoid failing at life?

The answer it gave me was simple but heavy-hitting. Five truths that, if you actually live them, could change everything. The first one is this:

You are not your thoughts.

Now, before we dive in, let me say this: Nothing here is medical advice and I am not a therapist. I’m just sharing what I’ve researched, reflected on, and lived through. I urge you to reach out to professionals when you need support. They have years of training for a reason, and you deserve that kind of care.

Okay. With that said, let’s get into it.

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Where this idea comes from. A short tour.

The idea that we are not our thoughts isn’t new. In fact, people have been wrestling with it for thousands of years. The idea of how human consciousness works was discussed and argued long before social media told us not to “believe everything you think.” Philosophers and spiritual teachers were saying the same thing, just with different language.

Buddhism and Anatta (no-self): Yes I’m talking about Buddhism again. But it’s just too good not to mention. One of the core teachings of Buddhism is Anatta, which translates (mostly) as “no-self.”

This teaching says there is no permanent, fixed, unchanging essence inside us. Instead, we are a bundle of five shifting aggregates: body, feelings, perceptions, mental formations (including thoughts), and consciousness. All of them are temporary, and none of them on their own can fully define us.

The Buddha in The Dhammapada says: “All phenomena are without self… When one sees this with wisdom, one turns away from suffering.” In other words, the moment we stop clinging to thoughts as “me” or “mine,” we create space for peace.

Stoicism: The Stoics echoed a similar sentiment, though in their own practical way. Marcus Aurelius wrote in Meditations: “You have power over your mind — not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” It’s that old adage of only focusing on what you can control. Trying to control every single thought is just not possible, but rather the act of noticing, judging, and choosing your response is where your power lies. The thought is not you. Your response is you.

Witness consciousness: Across many spiritual traditions, from yoga to mysticism, there’s this idea of “the witness” or, as I call it, “the observer.” The part of you that notices the thoughts, the feelings, and the world. That awareness itself is proof you are not identical to what’s passing through your mind. In fact, I’d argue that the very fact we are self-aware is proof you are not your thoughts. If I can notice my thoughts, name them, and even argue with them, then how could I possibly be the thought itself?

What psychology has to say about it

Philosophy planted the idea, but psychology gave it language and tools. In the therapy world, “you are not your thoughts” is something people practice every day to ease anxiety, reframe inner narratives, and loosen the grip of intrusive thinking.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT): CBT is one of the most widely used therapeutic models, and it’s built on the principle that our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are connected. At its core, CBT teaches that thoughts are not facts they’re interpretations. A thought like “I’m going to fail this test” isn’t a prophecy; it’s just a mental event. CBT helps people notice these automatic thoughts, challenge them, and replace them with more balanced perspectives.

Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT): ACT is a mindfulness-based therapy that focuses less on controlling or changing thoughts and more on changing your relationship to them. One of its central tools is cognitive defusion, the practice of separating yourself from your thoughts instead of fusing with them. For example, instead of “I’m a failure,” ACT invites you to reframe it as “I’m having the thought that I’m a failure.” That small shift creates distance, and in that space you have more choice about how to respond.

Intrusive thoughts, OCD, and anxiety: This separation is especially powerful for people living with intrusive thoughts or anxiety. For example, individuals with OCD and Anxiety often experience disturbing, unwanted thoughts that feel like they must mean something about who they are. Thoughts often loop around imagined futures as if they’re guaranteed. In both cases, learning that “a thought is just a thought” can be a lifeline. It strips the thought of its authority and allows space for compassion, grounding, and action aligned with values instead of fear.

Theory meets lived experience

It’s one thing to talk about thoughts as “just thoughts” in philosophy or psychology. It’s another thing entirely to feel that truth in your own body. A few stories made this come alive for me:

Aubrey Plaza’s stroke: In an interview with Howard Stern, actress Aubrey Plaza described the moment she realized her brain was betraying her during a stroke. She could observe, with clarity, that her ability to form words were no longer in her control and yet she was still there, still conscious, still witnessing. That awareness itself was proof she was not just her thoughts.

Jill Bolte Taylor’s TED Talk: There is a TedTalk that lives rent-free in my head now for like 10 years. Neuroscientist Jill Bolte Taylor educates us on the brain and describes her stroke and how it stripped away the chatter of her left brain. What remained, she said, was a profound sense of peace and connectedness. Again, the separation between “thoughts” and “self” was laid bare: her awareness persisted even when her ability to think normally collapsed.

My own experience: While I haven’t faced something as dramatic as a stroke, I have had my own moments where my thoughts felt disconnected to me. Moments where my thoughts were urging me to leave the world behind or do something very self destructive. Looking back, I spent most of my 20s feeling like I was trapped by my thoughts.

The first therapist I ever saw probably tried to hand me this “your thoughts aren’t you” truth. At the time, I wasn’t ready to hear it. It took years of meditation, mentors, and lived experience before it started to click. For me, intrusive thoughts could feel like a total takeover, as if every dark or harmful impulse was proof of who I was. That kind of fusion is dangerous.

When you believe the loudest, ugliest thought is the real you, it can feel like you’ve lost the fight before it even starts.

Over time, I’ve learned to pause and ask: Whose voice is this? Is this really mine, or just an old imprint of wounds, fear, or conditioning? Sometimes I can tell the difference right away. The thought sounds uncannily like to my father’s or my grandmother’s.

Sometimes I can’t tell right away. That’s when I lean on my community, my mentors, and therapy to help me find my way back.

Because here’s the thing… your body works tirelessly to keep you alive, it makes no sense that your brain would design thoughts to destroy you.

I’ve learned that a lot (most, if not all) of the destructive thoughts are taught to me from others. Not necessarily directly, but the brain makes connections and correlations sometimes we aren’t always conscious about.

Now if you’ve made it this far let’s take a breathe. This can be a bit heavy. Don’t forget to go touch some grass or go outside. Let’s look at some things we can do to practice lightning our relationship with our thoughts.

Practices to Try

The following are practices I’ve found useful. Some are from my own experience, some passed along by mentors or fellow travelers. None of this is meant as medical advice or a replacement for therapy. Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t, and always seek professional help if you need it. You are not a burden. Ask for help. No one is mad.

Name the thought. One of the simplest tricks I’ve picked up is to add the phrase “I’m having the thought that…” in front of whatever pops up. Instead of “I’m a failure,” it becomes “I’m having the thought that I’m a failure.” That little shift creates breathing room between you and the thought. Write that phrase, “I’m having the thought that…” on a sticky note and put it in a location that you know you tend to ruminate a lot.
Witness practice. Try sitting quietly for a few minutes and watching your thoughts roll through like clouds. Notice how they appear, change, and fade without you doing much at all. That awareness, the one watching, is proof you are more than the passing content. When I used to work a 9-5, I used to carry a small notebook and occasionally pick a day that I would write my current feeling and a thought sentence down once every hour. Then at the end of the day I’d check on that list and see how much my thoughts and moods changed.
Mindfulness anchors. When your mind feels especially loud, shift attention to something steady: your breath, the feeling of your feet on the ground, the sound of birds outside your window. These anchors remind you that the present moment is more real than any mental spiral. One practice that i adopted is door jam mindfulness. I started by putting sticky notes on all the door jams that said NOW on them. That would remind me to mentally stop and breathe for a moment and be mindful. I’d check my posture, check my mood, and then move forward. Now I tend to do this automatically through door ways. I mean how many times do we walk through doors right? (You could always start with one or two specific doors, like a kitchen or a bedroom door.)
Values check-in. Ask: If this thought were true, does that associated action line up with my values? Sometimes the answer is clearly no, which is another clue that the thought is just noise, not a compass. It’s important that we are somewhat clear on our values though. This is a yearly check in for me. I will literally sit and write down what I want my life to look like in story form and then list the values that would align with that vision. It’s been a rather life saving practice.

None of these practices are magic wands. Sometimes the thoughts still roar. Sometimes the cloud-watching feels impossible. But every time I practice, even for a few minutes, I carve out a little more space between me and the gremlin voice in my head. In that space, there’s room for choice.

There’s also room to question from a place of steadiness. With practice, it becomes less of a panicked, self-critical attack and more observational. That’s how confidence grows: by repeatedly proving to ourselves that we can face our own mind without collapsing under it.

And as a bonus, the more self-aware we become, the harder it is for those old patterns (and for outside forces: people, social patterns, etc) to run the show unchecked. That kind of awareness may not always be convenient for the world around us but it is deeply necessary for us and our well-being.

Love yo face! -MJ

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